


Wonderland Offerings

by Jairephix



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Fic Wonderland Challenges, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jairephix/pseuds/Jairephix
Summary: A series of "offerings", or really fic written to meet particular challenges, for Fanfiction Wonderland, run over on the TAZ Fic Writers Discord. Thanks to TaraHarkon and Waywardwitchcat for being Edward and Lydia, as well as giving me some truly insane challenges to work with.Challenges are largely based off A Careful Application of Voidfish.





	1. Offering 1: A Deleted Scene

**Author's Note:**

> The challenge for this round was to show a deleted scene: a scene from the originally submitted fic that never made it in.

As a younger gnome, eyes always on the sparkling  violet sea or looking up into the  lilac sky and twin suns lighting up clouds, he dreamed of adventure as Captain of a ship, seeking adventure. He dreamed of a crew that understood one important thing: no secrets.

While a crew wasn't the same as a family, a family could be a crew, and secrets could lead to people being needlessly hurt. Davenport hated senseless hurt, hated secrets, hated in-fighting and squabbles. There was a difference between "Cap'nport, I'm not talking to  Lup someone because she blew up my casserole again" and not talking to someone over something important.

So when he founded the Bureau of Balance and extended invitations to his old friends (how had they met again?) and the best adventurers Faerun had to offer, he trusted Lucretia explicitly to handle organizing quests coming in.

He had never heard of these Relics, but Lucretia seemed to know a lot.

Too much.

He knew Lucretia was not telling him something. Something deadly important, with how nervous and fidgety she got. Davenport didn't like that. He needed to know the answer, something about that wasn't quite right, and she knew who made--

The sudden headache made him stumble on his walk through the halls, clutching his temple as pain ricocheted inside his skull. He drew a shuddering breath, trying to get his eyes to focus without the auras around each light, trying to fight down the sudden wave of nausea induced by the migraine.

What was he even thinking about again?

The chime rang out overhead, the alert that someone planetside had returned to the base. Moments later, Lucretia found him. "Director, the boys are back."

"Fantastic. Bring them in." He winced, rubbing his forehead. Immediately, she was kneeling beside him, her face lined with worry and age.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. Just a headache. I think a story is brewing."

\---

“We got it, Director.” Taako held up the Oculus. He felt Lucretia freeze beside him. Why was this small item so... 

The item they had in front of him was...odd. Not quite like it was calling to him, like the fear of the thrall they all were warned about.

No, something...something else.

Like it was...familiar.

Like it was... his? He held back the wince from the sudden stabbing headache, shaking his head. 

"Sorry, what was that?"

“Director?”

“Must be the thrall,” he muttered, just soft enough for the woman next to him hear, and she sighed just soft enough for him to hear.

There were secrets being kept from him, and he didn't like it.

Secrets were dangerous.


	2. Offering 2: A New Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This challenge was to take a scene I already had existing in my fic and rewrite it from a new perspective.  
> ...  
> With, of course, an additional challenge of not using F or B at all.

This was just a simple day out. Something Angus was anticipating, to see the good in the world that everyone had taken with them up to this sky to display on this midway. There was a solar eclipse today, too. It was amazing.

The sky turned to spilled ink. Something...something was wrong. Very, very wrong. This wasn't how an eclipse was supposed to look, it--

Angus.

The scholar took his son, pulling him tight, trying to turn his head. He shouldn't see this sight, this...this...

God, what was this?

The sky was peppered with a hundred million eyes, stark white and twisting, churning, writhing all at once. Every ink-dark pupil in every paper white eye turned at once, to stare at them.

He hoped that Angus hadn't seen a single one. Just in case. He knew his own dreams would churn with a dark, twisted mockery in the coming months, lasting too long. It shouldn't have lasted as long as they did, like he had seen it all time and time again, hunting and haunting.

He glanced to the side, seeing Magnus, Merle, and Taako, all staring right up at the eyes too. The magic item in Taako's hand shook. Was it with the same horror he had, the weight in his chest? Or was it something else? 

He looked to the other side, seeing the Director clutching his head in pain as another migraine overtook him.

Oddest was Lucretia. 

She stared, not up as he would have expected. No, she looked around, picking out people in the crowd. Not many still stood, many had collapsed at the sight. She shook, her whole person shivering in some unknown emotion.

The researcher scowled. Why would she look to the people around her, rather than the sight consuming the sky like some all-mighty hunger--

Pain spiked, driving the world to white agony. A migraine pierced any thoughts he had the moment prior, shattering his attention entirely.

Still, there was an important thing to keep in mind.

Something was hidden. Something important, something that was an answer to whatever this sight in the sky, this darkness pierced with light, and he'd get an answer. Any answer, and he'd do anything to keep his son protected. He almost dared a mother--

_ \--uuuuuucker. _

_ Somewhere, deep and dark, in magic-created curtains, a shape paced. Heat, unseen and unshaped, licked up equally shapeless arms. No direction, no exit, no way out, no way to do something, anything. Her son was out there. Her lover and spouse. Her kin, her allies, her comrades, the people she ran through a century with. And she couldn't do a damn thing, not like this. _

_ She knew the answers that they needed. She knew who it was, waiting, searching, staring. She knew what it was he sought. _

_ She could help! _

_...And Lup was trapped. Trapped, unheard, held in her own twin's hand. _

_ All she could do was scream, throwing her mind against the walls, clawing, trying to get out. _

_ It was all she could do. _


	3. Offering 3: Character Analysis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This challenge was taking a character of our liches' choosing (in this case, Barry), and writing a quick summary on how I write him. Well, needless to say, this ended up being a bit of a ramble, which is perfect for the Jeansman.

To write Barry, I think first of what we know of him in canon. He’s shown as intelligent but stammers as he speaks, often a sign of his mind moving faster than his mouth. In my experience with many friends who do this in real life, it’s also generally something I attribute to an attention disorder...and having a bit of a smart mouth. Again, this is something we see in canon. Barry is also shown as being fiercely protective and loving over his family. It makes sense. As one of The Birds, he’s The Lover. I never took this as just the romantic love that “defined and redeemed him”, but also the love he has for his found family.

I have always loved the headcanon of “Angus is a Blupjeans” baby because it adds even more to Barry’s love. With his treatment of the other Birds during The Stolen Century, he would make a fantastic father.

After all, Barry kept himself together as a lich out of love. Not just love of Lup, but love of his family. That is a very powerful love, if it kept him sane when he couldn’t talk to any of them in canon.

So let’s bring this to the A More Careful Pen alternate universe.

Keeping in mind the canonical traits of Barry, along with the idea that he’s Angus’ father and possibly has an attention disorder, let’s inspect how I wrote him.

I don’t delve heavily into Barry in a lot of the fic, but he’s generally acting as a scholar and a researcher while also dad to the World’s Smartest Kid. He can’t remember his necromancy at all, or that he’s a lich. It softens him, because he doesn’t know he’s a lich. It keeps him from going on wacky adventures, because he needs to be there for his son. He works alongside Leon as a member of the Bureau.

He’s not slothful, but instead, afraid. He’s afraid that if he does something wrong, he’ll leave Angus without any parents, with no lead still on what happened to his wife. It’s a callback to the Judges. His sin is sloth, where he’s so afraid of loss...he never acts, and inaction can lead to more and more loss.

This really leaves him with the Barry we know from canon with a bigger fear of “if I try to do anything, I will lose my son, or my son will lose me, and I can’t have anyone feeling that loss again.”...and it means he never acts.

...Well, until Lup comes back around, and then let’s talk about some deep down, serious love at another time.


	4. offering 4: no capitals or italics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anyone who knows me knows i love italics for really getting across the weight of a word. when i got challenged to write davenport's moon base and its differences from the canonical moon base without using capitals or italics? i got creative.
> 
> ...oh, and i had to write 1k words like that.

**o** ne would expect that the base of the **b** ureau **o** f **b** alanceto more closely resemble a celestial body rather than what it was. **s** avvy readers will know that in our main universe, the base resembles a small moon until you get close enough to realize it's not truly round in the same way. **u** nder the guidance of the gnomish captain and director, **d** avenport, there are no rounded domes to match an unspoken astronomical aesthetic, no sharp cut symmetrical paths breaking through the carefully kept grass to mimic **t** he **b** ureau's sigil. **i** nstead the base was designed in such a way to be the most efficient. **n** ot to say that there weren't gardens and fields for members to relax and meet in for whatever emotional trysts or relaxations they sought out, but rather designed like a fine sea vessel: best suited for getting from every place as fast as possible should emergency arise. **t** he administrative building stood apart, a fair distance away from the housing and dorms, and an arena for testing your mettle or to throw yourself into training sprawled over a third of the skybound features. **i** t seemed safer to give it more room, both around and inside. **s** ome of the employees here were over-exuberant in their efforts.

 **t** his choice continued into the internal architecture, calling to mind the spiraling heights brought about by hanging from a tall ship's rigging, open and airy, while maintaining that incredible efficiency. **i** f one was closer to the mind of a poet, it would trivial to find the elegance in the tall shining glass windows, reaching up towards the sparkling velvet blue-blackness of the cosmos, lit by a million twinkling stars, like a sea at night with a full moon lighting the waves. **e** ven the top floors, devoted to research of the world around them featured incredible glass panels to take in the awe-inspiring view.

 **t** he dorms, clustered together in a tight formation off to one side of the central grounds, looked more like clustered inns, offering respite to tired sailors after months at sea. **a** cross the small pseudo-town was the houses proper, for families and those trying to start them, a way to make a home this far up into the sky, when little else was certain. **h** ere, they were safe. **f** itting, that one could think of all of this as a tiny seaside port, as the rest of the buildings that were most important, such as the small hospital and the mess hall, were there beside them, creating a small easy town. **h** ousing itself was easy, simple dwellings, the rooms small with sparse furniture. **m** any wished they were larger, that the beds could be moved without gratuitous use of levitation, but **6** bodies found it comfortable and comforting, in a way that made their souls sing, like they were strings on a guitar being plucked in a bar of music they couldn't know. **s** omeone once joked with the **d** irector that he leaned into a pirate aesthetic, choosing to have things constructed in a way that would be more familiar along a shoreline. **d** avenport didn't argue, couldn't argue. **h** e knew something about it was familiar, felt right. **s** omething about it made it feel more like a home you had lived in your whole life, a time longer than memory could serve.

 **i** t is not just the interior and exterior designs that had changed. **s** ome changes were more subtle, but just as impactful.

 **u** nlike the moon base we know of, **d** avenport doesn't trust the indescribable warlock who peddles treasures without full disclosure. **t** here is no **f** antasy **c** ostco on the base, to save his people's pockets from a certain deals warlock who lets his greed be his patron. **s** ome people thought the choice unpopular, critical of why the option for something more conveniently close by rather than the journey down to the surface, but others who had run into the warlock in a series of catastrophic events softly agreed that perhaps the **d** irector was right after all. **n** ot being able to see or comprehend the face trying to strike a deal, to turn some coin and make a profit was unsettling at best. **o** thers said it was even better after hearing him open his mouth. **n** o deal was worth the voice that stalked them in dreams when they were late on a payment.

 **o** f course, most of the employees of this organization wouldn't know the real basis of this inspiration, of the reasons behind the simple, almost town-like construction choices. **h** ow could they? **t** hey didn't know of a century of running, where the only people you knew would stay beside you were the ones who saw the same horrors as you, who saw the end of 100 worlds, who knew there was either a struggle with a brief chance of survival, or utter failure. **t** hey didn't see the way **d** avenport wanted to drown his sorrows in the doldrums of work, the way **b** arry turned to his anchor to keep from losing himself, even before he was undead. **t** he way **m** agnus tried to lighten the mood with jokes, **m** erle with advice, how **t** aako would cook and bake until the cabinets were barren and food was spoiling as a way to avoid the haunting eyes in sleep--

 **a** nd **l** up. **t** he support none of them knew they needed, they depended on, until suddenly she was gone, and no one was there, and they couldn't find her, they couldn't--

 **l** ucretia does. **l** ucretia knows that the tall spires of the administrative building is built in such a way to remember the way **t** he **s** tarblaster broke the impossible, broke the infinity of reality by finding a new reality over and over, and excuses it as **d** avenport spending time in his youth aboard a ship, dashing over waves and discovering his own impossibility. **s** he knows of the truth where she joined him as a young woman, not that long ago and yet also lifetimes before. **s** he remembers her first day with the other **6** who became her friends and family, who brought the woman to confidence and heartbreak, who didn't know the depth of her betrayal in her attempts to save them all.


	5. Offering 5: Impress The Liches (Lucretia in Wonderland)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This challenge was honestly just "impress us". No limitations, just...impress them. So I wrote our liches an AU of my already existing AU.

The neon lights littering the walls, ceiling, and floor strobed in sync with the heavy bass as it kicked up. The newest round was here for their current contestants, and it was hard not to consider them favorites. They had already struggled so deliciously. Her companion was barely standing, and the twins already knew what his Bad Luck from another round was going to be. But up first was this plucky young woman who told them she knew the source of their power, and she was here to claim it.

She seemed to struggle to stand now, looking bloodied and leaning heavily on her staff. That sacrifice of her age must have hit so very hard, hadn't it?

Lydia leaned forward with a grin, batting her lashes flirtily at the once-young woman. A tease, of sorts, about how she now looked older than the twins ever could.

"Congratulations!" The lich crowed, watching her brother gesture so the lights focused on the newly appeared Wheel of Sacrifice. "You're on your last challenge before you get to claim your prize and leave! All you have to do is spin the Wheel, meet the challenge, and win! But, you've already seen the Wheel, you know how it works, darlings."

The woman stepped forward, letting her guide sit heavily on the floor for a moment. Ooh, he really wasn't doing too well himself. The pair that had forsaken them really did a number on the two here now. She reached out, spinning as hard as she could. The humans focused on the spinning colors and icons with a nervous energy. Delicious. The twins watched their own game, delighted as it landed on Brain.

"Oooh! Time for you to choose!" Edward cooed, leaning forward around the side of the Wheel. He was only barely trying to hide his glee in this. He was always so good at coming up with some lovely sacrifices. "Do you lose your rapier wit and become someone who is merely of average intelligence..." In an instant, his grin turned truly vicious, the first real mark this duo saw of how cruel the pair could be. "Or..."

"Or?" She sounded so tired, poor dear. She was so delightfully full of pain, carrying everywhere she went. Truly, that would be a lovely source to keep here, perpetually circling around and around. On the other hand, the delightful taste of betrayal and anguish she could cause for her trusted guide...

"Or," Lydia chimed up, coming to stand on the opposite side of the Wheel now, "You give up your memories of why you came here and what happened inside!" That should be simple enough, right? As soon as they collected her memories of Wonderland, she'd just leave, with no recollection of the man next to her. Of course, there  _ was _ the side effect of losing anything she thought of as "here", as that was just the nature of the Bell, wasn't it? Here could be Wonderland, could be the entire Felicity Wilds, could be the general region around it...

It didn't matter to Edward and Lydia what came with it. What mattered was how much of that delicious pain she had arrived with, and how much anguish and angst she could leave behind.

"The memories." She had barely hesitated, her gaze sharp among the new wrinkles around her eyes. As sure as they were standing there, she thought she could just clever her way back here. Wouldn't be the first person to think so.

"Done." Lydia snapped her fingers, and instantly the twin liches felt the change. This wasn't just a few years of hardship. This was over a  _ century  _ of pain, fear, loss...all frosted like a cake with self-doubt, a dash of loathing, garnished with depression and betrayal. This young woman was older than even what her body now showed, and for a moment, they were afraid they had stolen from another lich...

And the fear was gone as they noticed the glassy glaze over her eyes as she looked around in sudden fear. "Where am I?"

"Oh, you just got lost, darling," Edward supplied smoothly as he gestured a door into existence. "The exit's this way."

"Wha--Hey, what about me?" Cam struggled to his feet, hushed immediately by Lydia stepping between him and his employer.

"Don't pay him any mind, dear. Go ahead, go on your way."

"After all, he still hasn't paid our toll..."

* * *

Lucretia blinked in the bright sunlight. What was going on? Where  _ was  _ she? Panic was settling in. This didn't look anything like her hometown! Last thing she remembered was...was...there was a postcard--no. A letter...with an emblem...

Everything turned to a blank static in her head, unable to focus on what the letter was, or why she felt like it was important. Not just important, but a central part of her life. She had been at home, at her mother's kitchen table. That's what mattered, remembering how she got here. She turned her head up as she thought. Now she...

She...

The sky was  _ wrong _ . It was blue, not purple like it should have been. Was there a bad storm on the way? But then, she could only see one sun--why was there only one sun?!

Something vibrated against her leg, making her shout. She dropped the staff in her hands, unsure why she was holding it anyway. Lucretia pawed at her clothes, looking nothing like the ones she remembered wearing last. She discovered a pocket, her fingers latching onto a smooth stone. Fishing it out, she stared at it in awe. Pale blue, glowing softly, with a pulsing rune in a brighter blue marked its surface. She pushed the rune, surprised to find the surface flat and unmoving. A voice sounded out of it, shouting her name over and over again in a higher male register.

"Lucretia, where  _ are _ you? I've been calling for hours, and I only just now got connected--"

"I-I'm sorry. Um. Hello? I...um. Who...who is this?"

"...Lucretia? It's...it's me. It's Davenport."

"...Who?"


	6. Offering 6: Changes In Wardrobe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This challenge was simply to write the changes in Lucretia's wardrobe over the canon of my fic, with a minimum of 150 words.
> 
> Being me, this ended up being over 500.

She held the crisp white envelope in shaking hands. The embossed emblem pressed into it shone in the strong daylight of the twin suns. Lucretia swallowed, cracking the wax seal holding it shut.

A breath.

Another.

She'd been accepted! She was going to be part of one of the most important scientific studies her world had ever seen. But...this was a prestigious thing, and her family wasn't the most wealthy. Would she need a new wardrobe? Lucretia glanced down at herself, at the simple, utilitarian garments she wore. Her family were farmers and merchants. Their clothes had to last. That's what she was used to.

Maybe the Institute wouldn't be so different?

* * *

A century is a long time to live. A long time, with many fashions to explore. Lup, as the only other woman aboard, was a godsend. True, Taako was the bigger clotheshorse, constantly finding new fashions with each new world and civilization, but Lup knew how to adjust. She knew, personally, the careful dance of exploration of something new in herself, and how to seek it out without rushing.

After all, they had all the time in the world.

Lucretia came to enjoy dressing up and playing around with outfits with Lup, even if she still preferred simple clothes. She found a fondness for flowing fabrics, more colors than just the drab muted hues of farm life. One of her favorite additions were the new scarves in her wardrobe that she used for her hair. Colors spanned the whole spectrum of visible light, in heavy wool for deep dark winters, or silk so light it felt like holding a whisper.

It took a century, but Lucretia was finally finding herself.

* * *

Faerun wasn't as bright without Lup there with them all. It felt...

Gods, it felt like the color went out of the world, for all of them.

Taako's cooking suffered, Magnus turned reclusive. Davenport and Merle didn't joke as often as they used to. Barry...

Gods, Barry. Seeing him like this hurt. Lup was his  _ life _ . He was a shadow of a man without her, their own ship-bound phantom who haunted the world for the chance to see her again, a chance for answers.

Lucretia mourned for a death she feared and worried for her friend, her  _ sister _ , who had been such a comforting presence for these many years. All the clothing and gifts Lup had given hurt to even look at now. She packed them away, hiding it all in a box in the closet of her small quarters.

If anyone noticed the scribe looking like she had a century ago, no one said a thing.

* * *

It took her so long to find color again...ten years, if anyone was counting. It helped that it came in the form of the uniform, set out as a suggestion to make everyone feel like a united front. Blue and silver, a sleek and elegant combination, was actually Davenport's idea of colors. He had almost chosen red, until he saw the way her face turned ashen, her eyes wide and distantly unseeing.

She appreciated his attention to her reactions.

Her full uniform was much like her clothes for many years, but in the cool tones the Bureau used. The only addition had made her start the first few months she had seen it: a robe, much like the ones issued as part of the IPRE program had been. She couldn't bear to wear it at first. It was too painful. It felt like the clasp was choking her, was too high, too tight.

With the return of her friends, of her family, as they were sought out, she wore it now as a reminder. For security. They were here. They were safe. Only one of them was missing...and Taako had found her. They could all mourn, together properly, now. The robe made her feel like she was home again.

* * *

Lup laughed, digging out the old boxes, slightly dusty now but miraculously safe. "Oh, and remember this one?"

Lucretia smiled, holding up the sheer orange scarf. After a moment, she looped it around her head, tying it expertly without a thought, and braiding the ends together to hang over her shoulder. The warm hue shone against the white of her hair, making her look and feel younger again. She missed this. The color and warmth and brightness Lup brought to their lives.

Taako wasn't the only one lucky enough to have a sister like Lup.


	7. Offering 7: A Gap In the Timeline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The same night as I submitted the previous challenge, we had a new challenge to complete within a timeframe AND another challenge to complete for the next round.
> 
> My challenge this time: 500 words to fill in any gap anywhere in my AU's timeline. Oh, and it was due in 2 hours. So I wrote a prelude!

**Hey Dav,**

~~~~**I need help  
** **Cha’boy done goofed.  
** **Can you send Maggie on over to play?**

**The best elf you know,  
** **Taako**

Davenport lowered the letter slowly, breathing out through his nose slowly. "Magnus, I called you here because of this. Taako is looking for asylum. Can you please gather Merle and go gather?"

"Yeah." The human shifted his weight, reading the concern on Davenport's face. "Is everything okay?"

"I hope so. Go find that out."

* * *

It must have been an odd sight for any viewers to see. Magnus was tall for a human, build like a shovel being held blade up. Merle was of average dwarven build, which is to say like a slightly lumpy, yet very equally proportioned rock. They crossed through the open field, away from the travel pod that had brought them down to the ground, having spotted the campfire from the air.

Taako paced the clearly near his wagon, and immediately everything that could be spotted as wrong was wrong. A path had been worn down in the tall grass so hard that the sharp scent of green hung heavily in the air, along with the soft smell of rich earth. Barry sat near the fire as Angus poured through another book. It was Barry who spoke up.

"Their here." He sighed, standing slowly. "It's good to see you guys. Taako's...uh. Not doing too hot."

"What happened?" Magnus' eyes grew wide as he noticed fresh scorch marks over the wagons, the paint seared off. What hadn't bubbled and burned had been attacked with something sharp, decimating any chance of identifying who's wagon it was. "Did you guys get hit by vandals?"

"No. It's uh. Worse."

Taako looked up at last, his arms hanging loose at his sides for the briefest moment before he bit at his fingertips and nails, a nervous habit. Ever since his sister was murdered, he seemed lost when he needed her the most to calm him down. "We had hired an assistant, you know? Cuz Barry's gotta teach Ango, and uh. And I've got the show, and...and..."

"Taako, I told you, it wasn't your fault." The pudgy man sighed, stepping closer to Magnus and Merle. "We didn't let Angus see, but...we're pretty sure the assistant poisoned a whole town on us. Swapped out ingredients in the food Taako made and served."

"A whole town?" Merle couldn't have spoken louder without shouting. Both humans shushed him hard. A quick glance showed Taako had returned to his pacing, and Angus hadn't looked up from his book. "How the hell?"

"We don't know. But either way, we need to not...be...here. For a while. Until the rumors stop. If they do." Barry sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Not for us, even. Just...we need Angus to be safe."

Magnus nodded. "Davenport sent us to see what was going on. He figured it was something like that." He watched the other man heave a sigh of relief. "C'mon, our pod isn't far away, we can get you and all your belongings up on the base in pretty short order."


	8. Offering 8: Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This challenge was both easy and hard at the same time...something I struggle with.

The challenge was to do something I struggle with. The obvious answer to that: outlines. I never use them, and often burn out on fic before it's done because I don't outline it. A Careful Application of Voidfish had an outline in the form of the show itself, so I could just write based off that, and all the other fics in the series had a softer outline that included goal points more than an order I wanted to do things in.

So, with that in mind, let's get to planning an outline for my ghosthunting OT3 fic, eh?

First, we need to figure out what we want to achieve in this fic. Regardless of how it happens, what is the end goal?

**[END GOAL]:** Get that OT3 to happen.

Perfect! Now, we should figure out our cast of characters and what they do. This helps figure out if they should be involved in the story, and if they are, we have a consistent guide to reference. A brief list is fine to start with, then as you write more, you can note it down next to that character.

**[Our Cast:]**

  * Ren: Is at culinary school. Secretly loves paranormal investigation shows.
  * Avi: Mechanical engineer doing trade school. Too bi to function.
  * Johann: Dead and a ghost and haunting a theatre
  * Davenport: The theatre manager. Gets called "Cap'nport" by everyone because he "runs a tight ship".
  * Lucretia: Local Hist Comm. Going to college for Historical Preservation.
  * Barry: Creepy Boy Cemetary Man (and going to school for quantum physics)
  * Lup: Triple-Threat. Culinary Master, Quantum Physics Major, and Beauty Blogger (a la Sailor J because DAMN GURL)
  * Taako: TA Culinary Asskicker and taker of no shits. Shows a little too much favoritism towards Ren.
  * Kravitz: Actual Literal Mortician. Lays heavily into the aesthetic, takes care to not smell like formaldehyde.
  * Magnus: Doing night school while working as a carpenter's assistant (Steven Waxmen), only couldn't do a full course load because he honestly enjoys the manual labor, and uses it as a way to study. He takes on projects for the theater between intense commissions.
  * Julia; Auto mechanic, runs the auto-shop that's next door to her dad's carpentry business.
  * Merle: The priest of the Church of Pan, guidance counselor, also a justice of the peace because religion shouldn't have any weight on who you marry.



Now that we have characters, we can start to plan what locations are going to be visited, and what they're called. As you can tell, I don't have all my names figured out. That's fine: I can go back and edit those in.

**[Our Locations:]**

  * The Siège Lunaire Theatre: rumored to be haunted, had a tragic fire in the past. The only reason anyone knows what happened is that there was a survivor from the fire who was interviewed on the 50th anniversary.
  * The Library (to be named): For Research Purposes
  * Avi and Ren's apartment
  * La Reine de la Mort Funeral Home.
  * Cemetary



And now for the meat and bones of the story...as you can see as you go through this, I start to get less and less details towards the end. That's fine! Those might and likely will change as I write, so leaving stuff farther in super bare helps me not have to scrap ideas I might get too attached to later on. I leave myself enough information to know WHAT I want to do. That's the most important part.

**[Our Outline]**

  * Ren and Avi get word from Magnus that a theatre is haunted.
  * They go to investigate
  * Avi sees the ghost, but his recording equipment fails. Ren doesn't see or hear anything because she's elsewhere in the building investigating and/or they were packing stuff up for the night.
  * No proof, but that doesn't mean they can't try again.
    * Ren actually cites that this is better, because they didn't come in with preconceived notions of what it SHOULD be, and the next round of investigation will be informed.
  * Research time on the details of the theatre!
    * Ren uses connections (Taako -> Lup -> Lucretia) to figure out who they should talk to about the historical part of the theatre, not just the rumors of hauntings.
    * Mentions article
  * Article actually leads them to Kravitz Corbeau and La Reine de la Mort funeral home.
    * Kravcake's grandfather was the interviewee, saw the whole dang thing. Passed away year before. This is how they get Johann's name...and how they get to Barry
  * This leads to Barry, who can show them the burial plot for Johann.
    * EMPTY GRAVE????? RESTLESS DEAD???? Spooky nerd boy is intrigued.
  * Okay so information at hand, now they gotta think about what they wanna do. 
  * First they talk to Dav (who knows they've already been in here), who agrees to let them do this AS LONG AS they don't upload this shit to Youtube because fuck he doesn't need ghosthunters in here all the fucking time when he's trying to run a BUSINESS. They're lucky that they came during the point in time when they're picking the next show and lining up when to do auditions.
  * Dav's the one who suggests he's going to get the place cleansed either way. That's how Merle comes in.
  * Avi runs into Ghost Johann again, gets his side of things.
  * Avi tells Ren all of this, and she tries to figure more shit out.
  * Revisiting Barry. We all know why.
  * Step one, get ghost boy out of theatre
  * Step two: WTF now.
  * Step three: Time for necromancy????
  * Step four: _hot new boyfriend_



And there we have it! An outline for this fic that I've been wanting to write for months now. I could keep this all in my head, but by having the outline in front of me, I can't forget important things like names and stuff.


	9. Final Offering...Bad Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last challenge I had for Fic Wonderland...and I escaped! The challenge was to write 3 bad endings to A Careful Application of Voidfish, each at least 500 words long.

#  Bad Luck # 1

Barry should have never come to Wonderland to try and get a grasp on the location to do research. He shouldn't have...he had died before even getting to the stupid place. Damn bandits.

But, it also meant he could silently hitch along when his friends, his  _ family _ came, hoping to help them a little. The liches here, he could see them for liches now that he was in his own spectral form again, they thought they were the most powerful in the world. They weren't wrong. They were strong, and they were likely the strongest Faerun had. Then again, he wasn't from Faerun, so it was hard to judge that.

Things weren't looking too hot. Without healing, Taako's wounds continued to bleed sluggishly. That Bad Luck had happened, with a harder fight than they had been expecting in the Monster Factory. A few bad steps, and Magnus and Merle weren't doing too hot either.

It finally came down to this last round, this final face-off against the liches...and Barry could do nothing but watch in hiding. He couldn't interfere, not here. Not now. As shitty as it was, he couldn't.

He watched, heart wrenching, as Magnus was thrown out of his own body. Taako opened his mouth to make a smart remark, throwing himself out of his body, hoping to catch Magnus.

The liches didn't give Merle a chance to cast anything. Barry looked away, unable to watch Merle die  _ again _ , knowing this time was for good. He couldn't see the plane of reality Taako and Magnus were on, their souls struggling against inky hands that lurched out of the Astral Sea. He couldn't see Taako's shocked expression as he watched, and then reached for Kravitz as well.

He couldn't see when the portal gate to the Astral Sea upended just enough black opal hands to snag two wayward souls out of the Prime Material Plane, to drag them into darkness shattered only with ribbons of red, yellow, blue, and green.

He had to watch, though, as the last thing that remained of his wife was picked up, inspected, and claimed. Anger coursed through him. There was a choice to make, and Barry didn't know which choice to make. Did he go down there, try to fight as hard as he could, try to reclaim the Umbrastaff? But then what? Did he dare hope that Lup was in there, still aware, still  _ alive?  _ Well, for given intents of alive. He had to keep that hope. But could he fight them? They were anchored to each other. His bond was to Lup, and she....she wasn't there beside him.

Did he go back to the Moon Base, risk being attacked, tell his friends, his captain, his  _ son  _ that he knew where Lup was at long last, and she was in the hands of the same liches who had  _ his _ Animus Bell? He had seen the fear on Lucretia's face when she learned that their friends, who were gone, why weren't they  _ moving, _ had to come here to claim that missing relic. His relic. The last one they didn't have. He might be able to bring enough people, if they trusted him, to break through it all, to be able to take on these two...but the Animus Bell was insanely powerful. How many people would die?

He...he...

Barry gave one final look to the unmoving bodies of Taako and Merle, and at the body of Magnus now possessed by one of the liches.

How much of his family was he willing to lose, to try and fight these two? How many more people did he have to lose?

He waited a moment longer, then moved. Whatever would be, now...would be.

#  Bad Luck # 2

He knew they would succumb to him, in time. It took over a century of chasing, hunting, of Parleys and chess matches.

John would miss those...had the consciousness that had been John, had been a very charismatic if nihilistic man, was still a separate consciousness. If he had still been able to be himself, free of the voices of a hundred worlds, of billions of voices, the anger and anguish of their reality. Their truth. That the universe existed and they had no purpose. No reason.

Sure, every new year, with the new addition of another world to its number, there was a resistance. A slowing of its actions. Consciousnesses fought...for a time. As the number of those-that-had-been accepted this harsh truth, and grew in number, the resistances were fewer, shorter. They arrived sooner, able to pinpoint the Light, find the spot where it was. Influence those already like-minded. Use the craving for that Light, that warmth to turn people against each other.

People, at their core being, were good out of fear of repercussions, and bad by nature. That was just the way of it, wasn't it?

That-which-was-once-John held a small, condensed ball of brilliant light in his hand, noting how a small piece was missing. This wasn't complete. He paused, then turned in place as the collective consciousness and body of The Hunger produced a woman. She looked old, yet the fire in her eyes was bright. In her hands, she held a staff...no, not held, not where she was laying, glaring up at him in proud defiance. Clutched it, her knuckles paling with the intensity of her grip. She looked...familiar, almost.

...One of the Birds that thought they could out-fly the Oncoming Storm. The Lonely Journal-Keeper. Yes.

He ignored the shifting mass around him, used to the sickening shifts of color that twisted like sinew. You got used to it after a few years.

"Now, child. I do believe playtime is over." His voice overlaid with many writhed as he held out his hand.

"No." She struggled against the urge to give into him, the urge to make the Light whole. She didn't have it in her hands, so it wasn't safe. It would never be safe for her. How could she even bear to look at it, the glow not filling her with greed to own it?

Once-John-Now-Only-Hunger knew that the faces of her friends were forming now, all around them. It  _ was  _ them, after all. They had all given into him. One by one. It wasn't hard. Each of them carried loss...Merle was the hardest to get to surrender, but in time he did, out of some sense of altruism or determination that he could "fix" this. Taako's lack of trust in so many. Barry's loss of self inside loss itself. Magnus' anger at things he could not control. Davenport's hurt and betrayal at the hand of his friend. Lup's wrath and fear of entrapment.

One by one, they had realized the reality around them, the futility of continuing this fight.

All it took was one more person to give into the truth.

He smiled as he watched her shake at what she saw, look at her staff, and let herself sink into the black opal depths of Them.

The Hunger reached out, taking the last piece of The Light of Creation from the ground.

Finally.

#  Bad Luck # 3

Taako faltered in his steps, staring.

Phandalin was nothing but a black, glassy circle, wider than any Fireball he had cast  he didn't have that spell, did he? , heat still rippling off the surface. He ignored the sweat rolling down his face and spine, however, as he walked towards where Gundren's charred form now lay. The dwarf's remains reached skyward, almost like he too had been knocked down with the force of the blast.

Something about this gauntlet, now that he looked at it, was familiar. Very oddly familiar. Like he had seen it before, in a reflection...but not quite. His head hurt, a small sharp stab of pain, but he shook it off. No, he couldn't get distracted.

In the distance, he could tell his friends were yelling something to him. Something about...ah, whatever it was, it didn't matter, just like that pain didn't, like the rest of the world outside of this moment. This inspection was critical. He had to figure out why.

The silver curves, the detail work in the design. It was  _ so _ familiar and he couldn't put his finger on it. He knew some of those small arcane etchings. Those were the same ones he had designed, on...on...something. Something important that he couldn't quite remember. That something was there, though. He knew it. He could feel it. Something else was just keeping him from remembering what. All the answers lay behind that something else. Answers to questions he had--No. Answers to questions he demanded be answered, by any means necessary.

The soul-deep thrum, the pull to put it on was almost unstoppable. Taako's feet guided him, one step after another. He could tell Merle was shouting, could hear Magnus slipping on the obsidian in an effort to get to him. They wanted him to stop. Why? Why would they try to keep him from claiming this? Wasn't this something they wanted to get? The treasure they had been sent for?

The elf stopped before the grim skeletal remains, barely pausing as he took the gauntlet from Gundren's corpse. He closed his eyes as he slipped the gauntlet on, feeling a sense of rightness. Yes. The gauntlet knew he wasn't the true owner, but close. So close. Close enough to matter. Close enough for them both to feel closer to whole than they had in a long time. He wasn't Lup. That's it. She was so much better at Evocation. And they...they...

His bare hand gripped the handle of the Umbrastaff tightly. They had lost her. Her body had been found, this staff had once been hers. He still didn't know who had taken her from him, from Barry and Angus. But someone had. Someone had, and they had no answers. It wasn't fair. It wasn't  _ fair.  _ Her murderer walked free, and if that was Merle's family's vault...then he knew where to start. He would hunt down all the Rockseekers until one of them could give him an answer. And then, when he had it, he would make the killer pay. He had to. It was only right.

Wrath rolled over him, just as heat blossomed around the elf.

When he opened them, the world was cast in a faint orange hue. Oh, how pretty the world would be awash in flame. 


End file.
